


When The Night Met The Day (And They Embraced In The Dawn)

by invinciblegirl



Category: The Witcher (TV), Wiedźmin | The Witcher - All Media Types
Genre: Confused Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia, Fluff, Friends to Lovers, Geralt has the emotional awareness of a boiled egg, Geraskier, Jaskier is smol protec him, Kinda?, M/M, Sexual Tension, Slow Burn, also ep 6 with with the dragon and the heartbreak never happened :)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-23
Updated: 2020-06-08
Packaged: 2021-03-01 18:34:20
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 7
Words: 6,927
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23791654
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/invinciblegirl/pseuds/invinciblegirl
Summary: A tale of when the day followed the night, and when the night gradually learned of the warmth that could be provided to it...Or... Geralt reluctantly allows Jaskier to follow him, falls in love (but don't tell him that) and is very confused by the concept of someone appreciating his company.
Relationships: Geralt x Jaskier, Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia/Jaskier | Dandelion
Comments: 31
Kudos: 192





	1. The Day Followed The Night (Who Reluctantly Accepted)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i have lots of geraskier feels so... here we are  
> kudos, bookmarks, comments, anything to show that you guys are enjoying this mean the absolute world to me!  
> i hope you enjoy! let me know if there are any geraskier fics you want me to write in future :)

It all started with what Geralt somewhat fondly referred to as The Bread Incident.

Any attempts at humour within the spritely music were lost on the witcher as he retreated to the far corner of the tavern, tankard of ale in hand and swords strapped across his back. It was best to not antagonise anybody, even if he could win a fight with them with one arm tied behind his back, so he avoided contact with the people surrounding him. Fortunately, that didn't require much effort since the majority of them backed away at the mere sight of him, or at least they did when he shot a sharp glare in their direction.

Setting his swords down beside him, he took a seat at the table and tried to ignore the infernal racket of his surroundings, hoping to sit in as much peace as he could find as he carefully considered the steps he would take towards his next contract. There was supposedly a devil lurking in the adjacent area, but devils were non-existent, so Geralt wondered what it could be that was giving the locals that impression and, more importantly, how he could defeat it. The place he'd been directed towards was practically a desert. There was little vegetation and virtually no water, which ruled out anything along the lines of drowners or foglets that operated mostly in swamps. It was unlikely to be a griffin, as they usually nested higher up and in places with a more reliable food source. It was intriguing, to say the least, and he quickly wound up lost in his thoughts.

He was dragged back to focus when the loud protests of the crowd caught his attention, the bard at the other end of the room frantically dodging objects and insults being hurled at him. Geralt stayed where he was, choosing not to involve himself in the situation and instead keep his eyes fixed in front of him, only moving to retrieve a second tankard once his first was empty.

When he returned to his seat, his face stuck in the same stony glare, he noticed the bard's attention snap over to him. The young man, blue eyes glued to the witcher in interest, stood up from where he was and cautiously made his way towards Geralt, though he noticed that his scent held no fear. Resisting the urge to roll his eyes as the bard began to speak to him, Geralt growled.

"I'm here to drink alone."

That single sentence was usually enough to send anyone else away without a second thought, but not the bard. Whether it was bravery or stupidity, Geralt had to admire his persistence in talking to a witcher. Few dared to even come near him but, even after a clearly unfriendly snarl of protest, the bard stayed. Not just stayed, but came closer. His determination was impressive, however Geralt had more important things to do with his time. He lifted the tankard to his lips and started drinking, almost choking when the bard continued.

"Come on, you don't want to keep a man with... bread... in his pants... waiting."

His mild shock and amusement were not registered by the bard, who stood there as if waiting for a response to... whatever he just said. Geralt was unable to formulate anything in response and continued to sit in silence, this time rolling his eyes on instinct when the bard took a seat opposite from him, bright blue eyes gleaming with something Geralt couldn't quite pinpoint, though it seemed not to be negative so he gave it no further consideration.

After more confusing mumbling, the bard muttered something about knowing who he was, and the witcher decided it was time to leave. It would only cause trouble if too much attention was drawn to him, so he slung his swords across his back and left a coin on the table, before taking his leave.

He failed to notice the bard, Jaskier as he had so very kindly introduced himself, following him like a lost puppy out of the door.

It turned out to be elves stealing from the people; the two were struggling to survive and couldn't seek asylum for fear of being forced out or killed, so they had settled with whatever they could find. Convincing them to find another way was difficult, but Geralt managed after he and Jaskier had been captured. Perhaps it was the bard's incessant chatter that had persuaded the elves to free them, or his complaining about how they destroyed his lute ("It's my entire life Geralt! And they broke it without a single consideration for my wellbeing or career!").

With the matter settled, and reluctantly with a new lute, Geralt set out on Roach to return to the town for his payment. Jaskier managed to keep up with him, all the while strumming at his new instrument absentmindedly as he attempted to compose a new song, claiming that his tales would improve with his experience of real monsters and would maybe even help the witcher's reputation, showing Geralt in a hero's light and giving him the 'recognition he deserved'. Geralt almost laughed at that part, but he allowed the bard to believe he could change the world.

He realised that the humans hated him, and he didn't blame them. He had gotten used to the foul looks he got riding through a new town, the jeers and taunts thrown at him, the threats and the aggression towards his kind. Yet here he found himself looking upon possibly the only human that could stand his presence willingly without a trace of fear. A human that wasn't afraid of him was rare, but to find himself with one that wanted to protect him somehow? That must have been destiny.

_The night kept along its trail, stopping only when it heard the gentle call of a voice behind it. It turned to see the day, following blindly in its own destiny as it twined with that of the night's. The night welcomed the new presence as the day reached out its light to touch it, the darkness being steadily warmed._

_And so the night met the day for the first time..._


	2. When The Day Faltered, The Night Carried It

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know this isn't the best written fic ever but I'm having loads of fun writing it! I'm going to try to update every week at least but please forgive me if I don't!  
> I hope you enjoy it and please feel free to leave kudos and comments! They mean a lot to me :)

Geralt thought it was impossible for the bard to be any more stupid. 

He was quickly proven wrong.

Some people would've said that enlisting a jinn to help with sleep issues was overly drastic but, then again, Geralt was getting desperate. It felt like it had been weeks since he last slept properly and he couldn't bear it any longer. Most nights it was a struggle to fall asleep and the times he managed, which were few and far between, he was plagued with nightmares. More often than not he'd jolt awake in a cold sweat, mind exhausted from the torment, and he just wished for peace. Not that he thought he deserved it, after everything he'd done, but it would be nice to be able to rest for once in his miserable life.

It all led him here, to the lake, as he searched the waters for the creature that might just have been able to help him. He was drained of all energy, but continued to drag the net through the depths in hope that he would eventually come across the object.

Much to his ~~delight~~ annoyance, he soon heard that same old musical voice ringing out through the trees behind him as Jaskier approached, a little cautiously this time seeing the state Geralt was in.

"Geralt! So good to see you again my friend!"

Friend? Surely he'd misheard the bard. He wasn't anyone's friend, and he didn't expect to become one anytime soon. But, he supposed, the man was an anomaly, so he let him believe what he wanted. He moved further away to another spot, remaining silent.

"Geralt? What are you doing?"

"I'm looking," he grunted, "for a jinn."

Jaskier looked faintly amused by that. "What, like a genie? Are you hoping to get wishes or something?"

"Yes, I know it's out here somewhere, and I can't fucking sleep!" He growled.

The sudden spark of anger seemed to deter Jaskier a little and Geralt could sense his sharp spike of alarm. He turned away and tossed the net into the lake again, perhaps a bit more aggressively than he had intended.

After a few more moments of tense silence, the bard spoke up again, ranting about some woman that had left him. Then, following an offhanded insult of Jaskier's singing, Geralt pulled the net back to shore, showing it contained a small brown bottle with an ornate symbol on the lid. He carefully picked it up and inspected it, being very cautious as to not disturb the seal, but the bard, still upset over Geralt's insult, roughly snatched the bottle from his grasp.

"Jaskier!" He growled and grabbed onto the only part of it he could reach, which happened to be the lid.

"Take it back!" Jaskier pouted and held the bottle closer to his chest, protectively. "Then you can have your jinny jinn jinn!"

Geralt didn't let go of the bottle and so Jaskier decided the best course of action was to pull as hard as he could, which unsurprisingly resulted in the lid being ripped from the opening.

Both men looked at each other, then to the unhelpfully empty bottle now in Jaskier's hands. He peered inside it nervously, then tipped it over and shrugged.

"Bit of an anticlimax."

The witcher cursed under his breath as the sky around them grew darker and the bard sprung forward, grinning and arms outstretched.

Once, just once, could Jaskier stay out of it?

He rolled his eyes when he said something about being the jinn's lord and having it kill whoever the hell Valdo Marx was, but he was pulled out of his frustration when the bard was thrown backwards. He quickly darted forward to catch him and his eyes widened when the blood fell from Jaskier's mouth.

The smaller man, now coughing and groaning in agony, pointed weakly to where the faint outline of the jinn was visible. Keeping hold of Jaskier, Geralt used one hand to fire Aard at the retreating genie. The attack grazed the side of the creature but it escaped nonetheless, however Geralt had more important things to worry about, mainly the bard in his arms who seemed to be badly injured and, as bad as it was, possibly dying.

Muttering a rushed apology to the horse for the weight, Geralt lifted Jaskier up onto Roach's back then sat behind him, guiding Roach towards where he guessed the nearest village or camp might be. Anywhere with some sort of healer would do.

When the healer told them that Jaskier might die, the witcher felt a sharp pang in his chest that he told himself was definitely not terror, since witchers were unable to feel fear. It was trained out of them. He awkwardly patted Jaskier on the back, doing his best to hide the certainly-not-fear emotion from the bard and feeling relieved that the scent of Jaskier's panic was dulled down when he was touching him.

The interactions with the mage that followed that encounter were not completely unusual considering the other events that had already occurred, and so while Jaskier was a little disturbed, Geralt was unfazed by whatever kind of orgy was taking place and spoke to the woman as if nothing strange was happening. 

Before long, Jaskier was lying in a bed, unconscious but healing, and Geralt was stood beside him. Gazing down at the bard and lost in his thoughts, he was reminded of the stab of probably-not-fear he had felt, but he decided it was best if he didn't think about it, otherwise it might become a distraction. He breathed a sigh of relief when Yennefer had told him that Jaskier would live; he pretended it was because he would have felt responsible, not because he would have missed Jaskier or anything.

Hearing the mage refer to Jaskier as his 'friend' made him feel some kind of way, but he pushed that aside next to the might-have-been-fear emotion.

_The night searched desperately for the day as it dipped below the horizon, yearning for the light it had become accustomed to and scared that it may never see the sun again, but sure enough, dawn swept over the land once more as the day returned. The night lay down its head, relieved and relaxed, and slept peacefully._


	3. The Night Healed The Day When The Brightness Faded

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> sorry for the incredibly unpredictable update schedule :P  
> also if you hadn't noticed already, each chapter title is a clue to what each one is about!  
> enjoy :)

_Shit shit shit...._

_There's the might-have-been-fear feeling again..._

Jaskier, stubborn as ever, had blatantly ignored Geralt's instruction to stay directly next to Roach and to _not come after me, you idiot._ Having clearly lost any sense of self-preservation he may or may not have had beforehand, the bard had followed Geralt deeper into the swamp and found himself face to face with the alarmingly large kikimora that the witcher was looking for.

The high pitched squeak of terror alerted Geralt to where Jaskier was slowly backing away from the monster, evidently trying to shield himself with his precious lute. Observing him carefully, the kikimora crept closer and lashed a claw out in his direction. The witcher dived forward and tackled Jaskier to the ground, his head narrowly missing the talon that swiped at empty space.

"What the fuck are you doing here?" He growled in frustration.

The bard's eyes widened. "I was intending to find material for another song, not searching for my death if you must know..."

Shrieking in anger, the kikimora quickly interrupted the verbal abuse Geralt was fully prepared to hurl at Jaskier for his stupidity. Instead, he got to his feet, drawing his sword, and turned to face the creature. He moved around it, drawing its attention away from the helpless bard as it spun around in preparation to attack him. Geralt dodged the hit of another claw before slicing through its leg, causing an ear piercing howl of pain to echo through the swamp.

"Look out, Geralt!"

Jaskier's warning brought his attention to two more limbs flailing wildly towards him; the kikimora was scared now and was using everything it could to its advantage, rearing up and crashing down again in hopes of intimidating them enough to back off. As he cut off another leg, it lashed out with a claw, catching Geralt's side.

"Fuck..." He grunted in pain and held a hand against the wound.

He dodged the offending limb when it moved to strike again and drove his sword forward, landing it through the top of the creature's skull, pushing it aside when the thing finally went limp and sighing in relief.

"G-Geralt..."

He rushed over to where Jaskier had been stood, only to see the bard leaning against a tree and clutching his shoulder.

"Jaskier... what happened?"

"It... it was swinging its hideous claws around and... well..." He moved his hand away to reveal the deep gash in his shoulder. 

Geralt growled under his breath as he inspected the injury. Jaskier had lost a lot of blood, and if it proved too serious a wound, he might struggle to heal.

"Can you stand?"

The bard slowly but surely got to his feet, holding onto Geralt for support, but almost collapsed when he took a step. "Apparently... apparently not..."

Geralt's shouldn't-be-fear-but-feels-like-fear emotion flared up again and he carefully lifted Jaskier up to carry him. "Don't you dare die on me bard..."

"Why ever not? You... you'll miss me?" His playful smile did something to console Geralt, and he smirked a little.

"No, but this will be too much work if you're just going to give up." He lifted the man up onto Roach's back. "It won't take too long to get back to camp, just don't let your eyes close or they might not open again..." 

He murmured the last bit because he wanted to spare Jaskier the fear, he told himself. He wasn't scared that Jaskier would die. Definitely not.

Jaskier groaned in agony as the witcher set him down on a rock when they reached their camp, Geralt quickly grabbing some supplies from his bag as he did so before kneeling down in front of him. Making sure to not further disturb the injury, he peeled off Jaskier's blood-stained doublet and undershirt.

"How... how bad is it..?"

"It's deep, but if we stop the bleeding, you'll live."

The bard sighed. "That's a relief..."

Geralt picked up a rag soaked in water. "This will hurt like hell though..."

Jaskier winced as he cleaned the dirt and dried blood from the wound, having to bite his lip and clutch Geralt's shoulder when the man started to stitch up the gash, trying his hardest not to cry out in pain. He let out a breath when Geralt cut the thread and started bandaging his shoulder.

"Thank Melitele that I have you... I would surely be dead otherwise..."

Geralt paused slightly at Jaskier's words. _'I have you'._.? He shook it off as nothing and tied the bandages securely around his shoulder. 

"Maybe if you followed my instructions in the first place then you wouldn't have almost died."

Jaskier chuckled and patted Geralt on the shoulder. "Admit it, for as much trouble as I cause you, you like having me around."

A small smile crept onto Geralt's lips and he shook his head. 

_This bard will be the death of me..._

_As the sun's light faded, it collapsed into the night's arms. The night held the day close, healing it, bringing back its light, until the day could rise again the next morning._


	4. The Night Found Another Way To Keep The Sun Safe

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> who's ready for some sexual tension?  
> im a whore for feedback so please leave kudos, comments, anything!  
> enjoy :)

Geralt somewhat reluctantly handed over a small bag of coin to the merchant, who in turn wrapped up what he had requested in cloth and tied it with a ribbon. He took the object and tucked it into his bag before returning to the camp. There was a contract nearby; they'd get more coin soon enough, so maybe this was worth it.

He just prayed to Melitele that Jaskier would be able to use it if the time came.

The bard stared down at the cloth-wrapped item that Geralt had handed him in shock.

"You got me a gift, Geralt? This is most unlike you..."

"Shut up and unwrap it already." 

He rolled his eyes. "Alright, alright." Carefully unfolding the cloth, his eyes widened even further, though Geralt hadn't thought that was possible. Jaskier picked up the dagger to look at it, the steel blade catching the light and reflecting it off of the subtle blue gems set into the hilt. He ran his fingers delicately over the handle, as though he was scared it might break, and looked up at Geralt questioningly.

"Do... " Geralt looked away awkwardly. "Do you like it?"

"Like it? It's stunning, Geralt..." Jaskier's gaze trailed over the weapon in awe. "This must have cost a fortune! Why would you spend this kind of money on me?"

"I thought it would be for the best if you had something to defend yourself with." Geralt smirked a little. "I'm not always around to save you..."

"Hey!" Jaskier nudged him playfully in mock annoyance, bringing a smile to the witcher's face.

"I'm just saying, you get yourself into far too much trouble. Now you've got that, you might be able to get out of it on your own."

"Even if you try to claim that this was purely a gift of necessity, I appreciate the sentiment that was behind it." The bard grinned, not one of his forced stage smiles; this was genuine and happy. He rested a hand on Geralt's shoulder. "Thank you..."

Geralt's eyes met Jaskier's for a second, and the pure happiness that radiated off of him, not to mention such gentle contact, caused a warm spike of... something in the witcher's chest. It was becoming infuriating to not know what he was feeling anymore. He decided that he had had enough of these mysterious feelings and hummed in response, deliberately shifting his attention over to his swords.

He slid his silver sword out of its scabbard to sharpen it. The softness of the metal meant that it got blunt every time he used it, so he used he steel sword more often unless it was absolutely crucial that he use silver. As he dealt with his sword, he noticed Jaskier still admiring the dagger, turning it over in his hands and tracing his fingers over every inch of it.

"Will you be teaching me how to use this properly?" Geralt looked up at him and he chuckled. "My dear witcher, it's all well and good giving me a weapon, but I would be quite upset if I was harmed simply because of my lack of skill."

Geralt tried not to focus on the way Jaskier had addressed him and nodded. "Tomorrow morning. Be awake at dawn."

As Jaskier inevitably started complaining about how he couldn't function that early, Geralt suppressed the small endeared smile that threatened to grow on his face.

The bard's eyes flickered open slowly, adjusting to the light before he sat up. _Shit, I was meant to be up early..._ He looked around to see Geralt sat across from him and Jaskier jumped slightly in surprise. 

"Gods Geralt, don't scare me like that!"

"Get up. I would offer you breakfast but you've wasted enough time already." 

"But-"

"This was your idea."

Jaskier whined and fixed the witcher with his best puppy eyes. Geralt looked back at him for a second before quickly turning away, standing up to fetch Jaskier's dagger from his bag. He had noticed that a lot recently; Geralt would avoid looking at him for too long, shying away from eye contact as if it hurt to hold it for too long, but he came to the conclusion that if something was wrong, Geralt would tell him in his own time. Prying his attention away from the witcher, he pulled on his clothes and took the dagger from Geralt's hand.

Jaskier stood facing the witcher, weapon in hand and trembling slightly, though he was unsure whether he was more nervous about getting injured or disappointing Geralt. This had all seemed so easy in his head when he suggested it, but now he began to think that he may struggle more than he anticipated.

"I'm going to attack you, and you're going to stop me."

He spluttered in protest. "G-Geralt? It might be helpful if you told me _how_ first?" 

"I want to see how good you already are."

Jaskier fiddled anxiously with the dagger, desperately attempting to find another excuse. "But, but you're unarmed! I might hurt you!"

The witcher chuckled lowly. "No, you won't."

Jaskier restrained himself from shrieking as Geralt barreled towards him.

Geralt didn't know how long it had been, but he had knocked Jaskier down countless times, despite Jaskier having a weapon. Although he was still unsteady with his movements, he was getting better at least.

He told himself that he was just taking out his frustration when he tackled Jaskier just a little harder than necessary. He was getting angry with himself for whatever the panic-fear-thing and the warm-spiky-thing were and that he kept feeling them around Jaskier - the puppy eyes earlier this morning filled him with something he couldn't describe other than a kind of pulsing heat in his chest, like a tug at something inside him.

So he concentrated all of his energy on teaching the bard. It took time, but Jaskier started to be able to dodge some of Geralt's attacks, even if his counters were lacking. He was no match for the witcher yet, however Geralt felt confident that if he needed to, he would be able to defend himself against smaller threats. After all, Geralt had over a century of experience and the bard was holding his ground better than he had previously thought.

"You're improving."

Jaskier's eyes lit up and he smiled. "Really?" Geralt nodded and got closer to him as the bard visibly relaxed. "I'm glad, for I would surely go insane if all this was for noth-"

He was interrupted as Geralt stepped closer and tripped him backwards, knocking the dagger away as he did so. He landed Jaskier on the ground, holding his wrists down above his head and straddling his waist to block his legs.

Geralt smirked. "Never let your guard down..."

He didn't miss the way that Jaskier's heartbeat sped up, or the way that his face flushed red, or the way that he fell silent and merely nodded in response.

_When the sun fell under attack, it sought cover behind the night's shield. It allowed the night to protect it in return for sharing its light. Soon enough, the night fell anxious that the day would be hurt when it was not around to save them, so when the sun next looked for protection, the night gave the day its own shield._


	5. The Comfort Of The Dark Kept The Light Warm

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> we're nearing the end guys! I've tried to involve a little more of what Geralt is actually feeling in this chapter soooo... have fun :)  
> I'm really glad that people seem to be enjoying this so please let me know in the comments if you want more geraskier fics!!  
> enjoy :)

Jaskier seemed... tense. Ever since the lesson, Geralt had noticed him being unusually quiet. He had been going out of way to annoy the witcher beforehand but now it felt like he was trying to distance himself. It was confusing, and Geralt hated not understanding, though he had an nagging feeling that it was about the position they'd ended up in towards the end. He remembered the way Jaskier's heartbeat sped up and the pink that rushed to his cheeks when Geralt had pinned him down. The witcher came to the conclusion that it had simply made Jaskier uncomfortable to be so close to Geralt, and he couldn't blame him, so he tried his best to give him some space. He made sure not to sit too close to him by the campfire, made sure to not put his bedroll too close to Jaskier's, made sure to not touch him unless it was necessary. 

Unfortunately, this only seemed to give way to a new issue. Geralt had thought about it, and the panic-fear thing and the warm-spike thing appeared to be related and triggered by Jaskier. It was almost pleasant, he supposed, to feel warm around Jaskier, but it deeply increased his worry of going on hunts lest the bard found himself getting hurt. He never had someone to worry about before, someone to live for, and it put a weight on his shoulders to think that Jaskier might take that feeling away from him. It was an interesting feeling ~~and if he had to put a name to it, just maybe, he'd call it love.~~

He wouldn't be surprised if Jaskier decided to leave. Who wanted to be cared for by a witcher anyway?

Geralt thought that giving Jaskier space would help to repress the things he was feeling, that spending less time around him would lessen the warmth, but it gave way to a piercing sensation of longing. He found himself yearning for the small moments of contact they had shared previously, yearning for Jaskier's soft singing, his gentle touch and the comfort that his presence brought. Keeping his distance seemed as though it was just elevating the feelings he held for the other man, despite all he did in an attempt to repress it.

_Hmm... stupid bard... stupid fucking emotions..._

It was nearing the end of September, the warm hues of summer now faded to harsh rain and chilling air. Geralt would be returning to Kaer Morhen for the winter but he still had a couple of months left on the path, even if monster contracts became scarce this time of year. The lack of work resulted in much less coin for the two to spend, so most nights they spent camping rather than finding an inn - it wouldn't do for them to run out of coin so soon and be left helpless.

The days flew by, the witcher picking up an occasional contract and Jaskier composing more frustratingly catchy songs, even if the bard wasn't quite as energetic as usual, and each night they found themselves sat on opposite sides of the fire, stealing glances at the other but never speaking. Geralt was growing increasing tired of the silence, something he never thought he would've disliked.

"Jaskier."

The bard looked up quickly, though he averted his gaze again when he saw Geralt's intent stare fixed upon him. "Yes?"

"You're quiet."

"I suppose." He grinned a little. "Are you not enjoying your blessed silence, my dear witcher?"

The name sent another spike through Geralt's heart and he grunted. "I'm just... concerned..."

"You're worried about me?" Jaskier asked, sounded astonished. 

Geralt looked down and nodded.

"I assure you, I am perfectly fine."

He smiled reassuringly, but Geralt could smell the anxiety coming from him.

After brushing Roach and setting aside her tack, the witcher settled down for the night on his bedroll, making sure to give Jaskier space from where he was sleeping. The nights were growing colder; tonight the wind bit like ice, though Geralt could easily withstand the colder temperatures. As a precaution however, he had given the bard an extra blanket for fear that he might freeze overnight.

When sleep didn't come, Geralt lay awake looking up at the stars and listening to the calming rustle of trees in the winter breeze. He closed his eyes, focusing on the noises around him - the whistling wind, the crackling of the fire, the steady rhythm of Jaskier's heartbeat. It grounded him, knowing that the bard was safe beside him, even if he seemed unhappy. The peace of the night lulled him into a state of rest, though he knew he would still not sleep.

A flood of chilling air swept over the camp, causing the fire to flicker and slowly die out , followed by a small shivering sound from Jaskier's bedroll. Geralt sat up slowly, looking over at him.

"Jaskier?"

The bard rolled over to face him, body quivering from the plummet in temperature. "It... it's terribly c-cold tonight..."

Geralt sighed, looking at the smoking remains of the firewood. "It's too risky trying to find more fuel..."

"W-what do you suggest w-we do..?"

He sighed and looked over at Jaskier, still trembling and curling up further into his thin blankets. "Bring your bedroll here."

Too cold to resist his instruction, Jaskier quickly hurried over with his bedroll, still layered in blankets, and lay down again next to Geralt.

"W-what now..?"

The witcher hesitated, then lay back as well. "Witchers have a much higher body temperature than humans..."

The bard's eyes widened slightly with the implication. "G-Geralt... I don't want you t-to be uncomfortable..."

"And I don't want you to die on me. Come here."

Steeling his nerves, Geralt pulled Jaskier closer so that his head was resting on the witcher's chest, and Jaskier almost immediately cuddled up closer, basking in Geralt's warmth. He wrapped an arm around Geralt's waist and nuzzled into him, causing the man to stiffen slightly. "Mm.... this is nice..."

"Hmm." 

Geralt looked down at the bard, having to restrain himself from running his fingers through his curls of hair as Jaskier gradually fell asleep. He looked so... so content, like this, though Geralt told himself that it was merely the warmth he provided, not because Jaskier cared for him in that way. 

He didn't expect Jaskier to feel the same way about him. He was not obliged to keep the witcher happy under any circumstances, though, looking down at Jaskier in that moment, Geralt could be happy if he was just allowed to keep him safe.

_The sun was cast further and further away in the winter, its light beginning to fade when it was shrouded in the cold. Upon seeing the day so melancholy, the night fought off the winter and wrapped the day in its embrace._


	6. The Night Smiled Upon The Light Of Dawn

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> and so the story comes to a close... I can't believe it's been a month since I started this!
> 
> thank you so much to those of you that took the time to read through all 6 chapters of my varying quality of writing :)  
> I hope the ending meets your expectations!
> 
> edit: thank you to everyone that's taken the time to leave kudos and such nice comments! this is my first fic to reach over 70 kudos so it means the world!!!

Geralt awoke a few hours later feeling pleasantly warmer than usual, taking a moment to relax into the unfamiliar but certainly not unwelcome sensation. Blinking his eyes open slowly, he was met with the dark hues of the early morning sky and the last flickers of the stars before dawn. The deep purple overhead cascaded gently into pale blue at the horizon, the familiar gradient providing a sense of calm.

His usually slow heart leaped in his chest as he peered down, still only half awake, to see Jaskier curled up close against him. The bard had been lying beside him when he had at some point drifted into sleep, but now he lay with one arm strewn across the witcher's chest and a leg hooked over Geralt's hips. No wonder Geralt had felt so warm- Jaskier was practically blanketing him- and the warm pang in his chest as he gazed down at the sleeping bard certainly wasn't helping.

Looking down at Jaskier in that moment solidified something in Geralt's mind; he longed to know what was tying Jaskier to the Path with him. He had often considered that perhaps Jaskier was only staying with him for career purposes, since he had made plenty more money from his songs after meeting the witcher. There was the possibility that the bard was only here to seek adventure, tired of the mundane life he'd been part of before. And, maybe the most unlikely option in Geralt's mind despite how he wished it to be true, perhaps Jaskier just... enjoyed Geralt's company, cared for the witcher.

Geralt could've gone his whole life without needing anything, anyone, but the stubborn bard had sung his way into the witcher's life. 

_Maybe I need someone after all..._

He decided that it would be torturous to go the rest of his life not knowing why Jaskier was still here. He would ask, and should Jaskier decide to leave as Geralt often thought he might, at least he might know why he had endured it for as long as he did.

Geralt looked down at the bard once more before very carefully prying his arm and leg away, allowing him to get up. Jaskier immediately curled up from the loss of heat as Geralt moved away, stirring a little but not waking.

Sighing in relief, the Witcher stood and pulled on his boots, taking once last glance at Jaskier before heading off. 

_A walk will clear my head..._

Sunrise had always been a source of peace for Geralt. The shimmering light flooding the world provided a tranquility that he was not entirely familiar with, having spent so much time amongst the chaos of the Path, though once he considered it, the few quiet moments he had with Jaskier felt the same way. Jaskier's voice never failed to settle his nerves, his soothing presence always calming Geralt after a hunt, his gentle touch always reminding him that he was not a monster after all.

The witcher wandered, having no destination in mind, until he reached the top of the hill not far from their camp. The few early tresses of golden light covered the land in a warm embrace, the light breeze ruffling Geralt's hair affectionately like an old friend. He took a seat at the edge, facing the glow of the horizon, and waited for the sun.

Geralt became so immersed in his thoughts that he failed to notice the light footsteps trailing up the hill behind him.

"Geralt..?"

He turned his head to see Jaskier stood next to him, still wrapped in a blanket with a curious expression on his face.

"What on earth are you doing up here so early?"

"Woke up."

Jaskier rolled his eyes. "Well thank you for the overwhelming complexity of your response. That didn't answer my question."

"I..." Geralt sighed. "I like to watch the sunrise sometimes."

"Really?" The bard smiled and sat down beside him. "How very poetic of you, my dear witcher..."

"Hmm."

The two sat in comfortable silence for some time, watching the sky fade into soft shades of blue as the last traces of the night began to vanish. Geralt was overly aware of the presence on his right, the bard sighing in quiet content and keeping the blanket tight around his shoulders.

"Are you still cold?"

"Only a little."

Hesitating momentarily, the witcher shifted slightly to reduce the distance between them, placing an arm around Jaskier's shoulders before he allowed himself to stop. Like he did last night, Jaskier quickly leaned closer into the warmth, his head resting against Geralt's shoulder. 

"Better?"

The man looked up at him and smiled, sending yet another wave of warmth through the witcher's chest. "Much better..."

Geralt hummed and forced his eyes away, trying to bring his focus onto the brightening horizon instead of the object of his emotion. As the first few orange streaks of light peaked their heads, he was reminded of the discussion he promised himself that he would have, for his own sanity.

"Why are you here?"

Jaskier pulled away, leaving Geralt yearning for the touch once more, and looked at him somewhat bewildered. "What ever do you mean by that, Geralt?"

"I mean why are you here? Money? Protection? Boredom?" The question came out as more of a snarl, if only out of frustration with himself.

He looked up and Jaskier seemed... sad. Instead of looking guilty, or angry, or scared... Jaskier looked sad. 

"Geralt... you really think that I have come all this way with you for something so trivial?"

"I don't know, Jaskier. Nobody travels with a witcher for the fucking company..." Geralt scowled and looked away, only to be brought back by a gentle hand on his arm. 

"Geralt, I do not know how we have travelled together for so many years without you knowing that you are cared for, and for that I am truly sorry. I do not travel with you out of career driven obligation, but because you are my dearest friend."

"You..." The witcher's brow furrowed in confusion. "You care for me?"

Jaskier smiled. "My dear witcher, I care for you more than anyone else in this world, and it's a wonder that it took you his long to find out."

"But-"

"Don't you dare say anything about witchers being unloveable monsters. You have never been a monster and you have always, always, been loved..."

Geralt's gaze was fixed on Jaskier, their eyes locked. 

_He cares... and he... he loves me..?_

"Jaskier..."

Putting emotions into words was never something that Geralt was particularly skilled in. Jaskier could weave ballads and sonnets and flood them with feeling effortlessly, whereas Geralt's method of expression resided in actions. 

So that was exactly what he did.

Geralt, still entranced by the shine of blue in Jaskier's eyes, leaned closer. He began to close the gap between them, giving the bard a chance to pull away, to take it all back.

Jaskier didn't move away, so neither did Geralt.

His lips pressed softly against the bard's, the tension draining from him when Jaskier's hand found its way to his cheek, pulling him impossibly closer and flooding Geralt's chest with the same old familiar warmth. He felt complete, as though a light missing in him had been found. 

_Jaskier's light..._

When the two reluctantly parted for air, the witcher rested his forehead against Jaskier's, not ready to let go of him just yet.

"My dear Geralt," Jaskier murmured. "You are my world, and don't ever forget it..."

"Thank you Jaskier..."

"For what..?"

Geralt smiled, genuine and happy for the first time he could remember as the golden light of sunrise spilled up into the sky.

"For saving me..."

_When the night recognised it's yearning for the light, it ran. It ran to find the day, who returned it's confession with glee._

_And as they met in an embrace, their dawn enveloped the world._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> thank you so much for taking the time to read this mediocre story :P  
> if you enjoyed it kudos and comments are more than welcome and let me know if there's other fics you want me to write!


	7. BONUS: The Day Comes Across A Realisation

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hey I'm super bored and desperate to write so I've put in this bonus chapter! it's not essential to the story I just thought it would be cute to have a little more dialogue between the two :)  
> thank you all so much for reading and leaving such lovely comments!!!

"Geralt?"

"Hm?"

"How long have you known that you liked me?"

"I... don't know."

"Well surely you must have some clue, dear heart?"

"I don't think I understood until very recently..."

"I sense a 'but'."

"But I think I first realised after the jinn."

"Geralt."

"What?"

"You liked me for almost a decade and didn't tell me?"

"What..?"

"No wonder there had been so much tension between us."

"Jaskier wait-"

"I mean, I suppose I understand since you were convinced that witchers didn't have emotions or whatever, but still-"

"Jaskier!"

"Yes, my dear?"

"The jinn was ten years ago?"

"I believe it was. I may be slightly wrong but it's a decent estimate."

"How... how old were you then?"

"Well, I was only just eighteen when we met, so I would've been in my late thirties."

"Jaskier. How old are you now?"

"I'm... I... I think I must be almost... almost fifty..."

"Hm..."

"Geralt..? What does that mean? Don't just hum at me you big oaf! How have I not noticed that I haven't aged?!?"

"I thought I sensed something different about you."

"Have you known this whole time?"

"No, but I had suspicions. I can't be certain, but you must have elven blood."

"I... I'm part elf?"

"Hm."

"Me?"

"Yes Jaskier."

"Oh... well, that explains it."

"You look pale."

"Oh really, Geralt? I wonder why that is? Why could that possibly be?"

"Don't worry. It's not enough to be noticeable, just seems to prolong your lifespan a bit."

"How long..?"

"Don't know. I'd guess a century."

"A century..."

"Hm."

"You're a lucky man, my dear witcher."

"Why?"

"You get to be stuck with me for many, many more years to come. A hundred years of travelling with one another!"

"If you don't get yourself killed by then."

"True. But, either way, you get to be blessed by my singing for even longer!"

"I wouldn't have it any other way, little lark."


End file.
